Battalion Wars The Final Frontier
by Dane338
Summary: A realistic continuation of the Battalion Wars universe. Fight in the vacuum of endless space, or on the hard ground with a simple rifle. Is Xylvannia what it seems to be?
1. Prologue: Beyond the Wild Blue Yonder

**Prologue**

** It's been 150 years since the disappearance of Kaiser Vlad and his junior Kommandant Ubel. Much has happened since then. Maybe too much.**

** Xylvania, realizing their inevitable failures on Origin (the home planet), they looked to the stars along with the other factions of the world. There were massive colony ships that dominated the space around Origin, as the Western Frontier and Solar Empire colonized the fruitful systems already inhabited by rouge life forms, and Xylvainia and Tundra exercised great patience and terraformed many worlds in their attempts to make it similar to the home planet, Origin. Though most failed, they still became habitable.**

** Meanwhile, the Solar Empire was getting increasing unpopular, both among it's people and other factions, because it was resistant to sell it's technology, such as plasma weapons, to it's neighbors.**

** But out on the final frontier there are challenges. Not only do pirates ravage the outer planets, but rebels are increasing their numbers and may spark a full out war among the nations.**

** But they themselves are doing a fine job of that on their own, the factions discover that interstellar travel isn't fun and games, and that their ancient strategies back on Origin don't work in space. They have to renovate their tactics and military doctrine, and only the best can come out on top.**

**All factions are on the brink of war, to expand, explore, and exploit.**


	2. Chapter 1: Dune City

Chapter One

Lt. Ranford mused through his paperwork at the Frontier outpost Camp Carnell, one of the most boring assignments even on the edge of Frontier territory on planet Root. He stopped at a particular packet, or order, that was entitled **CLASSIFIED**. There was a knock on the door, and Ranford quickly hid the file in his drawer.

His second in command and fresh out of officer's school Lt. Francis strolled in and then informed his commander through his dark-skinned gaze, "Sir, last patrol has reported back, and the frigate _Dune City_ is in orbit with some experimental equipment, sir." "Thank you, Francis. Dismissed." The officer exited just as quick as he entered.

When the man was out the door Ranford picked up his obsolete classified paperwork and peeked. He read the initial orders. They were numbered and fairly simple, with objectives outlined.

1. Report to the space-borne frigate _Dune City_ minutes before liftoff.

2. Bring along with you your five best grunts, but no personal possessions or electronics (including watches).

3. Proceed under the following identity and mission objectives once aboard:

4. Commander Ferdinand, WFA. 34th Infantry Battalion; objective in mind, reporting to WF for a routine physical and mental check-up. Your five grunts will be non-coms that accompany you on your trip.

5. When you reach Origin, you are to report directly to WF Intel, after shaking off any potential followers.

6. Do NOT repeat NOT reveal these orders to anyone except the grunts accompanying you.

7. Under no circumstances will you endanger this mission, use of force (deadly or otherwise) will be pardoned and will not effect your record in any way.

Ranford read all the objectives then call a summoning of his best troops, witch were all dumped into one fire team except for one, who was Sgt. Hickory. After which he loaded them in his ARV and they proceeded to town and boarded the _Dune City_.

The frigate was 400 yards of steel and war metal, as well as large magnetic weapons. It held a few shuttles and missiles add to it and it creates the Frontier frigate. Though this particular frigate, the _Ostrich_-class, was fairly old (about 30 Origin-years) it was sturdy and held two railguns and seven gauss turrets, as well as multiple missile tubes. It was the mainstay of the Frontier Space Navy.

There was an ensign, an Anglo-Frontieran if Ranford ever saw one. Tall, dashing, but with the darker skin of a Frontiersman. Some of the men in his team never even seen an Anglo, much less an Anglo-Frontieran. He showed them to their cryo pods, then loaded their bags into separate large lockers and supervised them as they entered the cryo pods, and fell under the sway of the rushing sleep gas and ice. The last thing Ranford remebered before he fell asleep was, "Damn it's cold."


End file.
